


four strangers in a week

by orphan_account



Series: pinstripes and cashmere [1]
Category: IT (2017)
Genre: M/M, Politics, West Wing AU, aged-up, georgie's perspective because what a cute little button, i have no idea what this is, smart boys?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-03
Updated: 2018-01-03
Packaged: 2019-02-27 16:12:09
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,823
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13251846
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: He sat, adjusted his chair, which had been lowered to the point where his collarbone was even with the top of the desk and tapped the space-bar on his computer twice."Who the fuck let Richie in?"The bullpen fell silent for a moment.The intern stared."Eds, baby, I'm a blessing, and don't you know it. And if you don't, then at least--""--My mom does, yeah, thanks, Richie. That's my cup of tea in the morning - jokes about you having sex with my abusive mother.""Aw, Eds! How many times have you commented on people's bad breathe and open wounds already this morning? Can't say she didn't have an effect on you, and it wasn't even as good as the effect she had on my d--"or, it's just eddie and richie banter but in the White House, with Georgie as a very small very wonderful little matchmaker





	four strangers in a week

**Author's Note:**

> for those of you who don't know the west wing is an old american political drama that im obsessed and its like my favourite show ever, and its vaguely what this is based on. very vaguely

 

 

"Mr. Kaspbrak?"

"What?" 

"Oh, um, I'm sorry sir, but could you please let Mr. Uris know that the numbers for the four-oh-eight bill has changed?" 

A pause, and the click of a pen. 

"Mr. Kaspbrak?" 

"You're new, aren't you?"He said, and it wasn't a question, even though it should have been. He hadn't looked at him for their entire conversation, entirely divided between the papers in front of him, the laptop he consulted every few moments and the to-go cup on his desk. 

The boy cleared his throat, clutching a manila folder to his chest. "Uh."

Raising his head, he looked at him. He scanned him absentmindedly, clearly not invested in the appraisal. He skimmed his dark jeans and his green button-up and his lighter-jean jacket, which was a different shade than the pants, but not different enough to be a good fashion choice. It would bother Stan, he knew, but watching him grind his teeth when another poorly-dressed intern flounced by his office was one of Eddie's only sources of entertainment and not one he was willing to give up. 

"Well," Mr. Kaspbrak said, standing. He stared at him, just for a moment, before quickly glancing at the floor. Mr. Kaspbrak smiled at him, which felt awkward and forced, and so stopped immediately. "The first thing you need to know is that I am  _not_  Mr. Kaspbrak and Stan is nothing other than 'Stan,' and if you ever call either of us 'mister' or 'sir' again, I'll have you fired, good?" 

The intern stared at him, following his quick steps through the mess of the bullpen. Mr. Kaspbrak stooped to talk to several staff members, which ended in their cheeks coloured in embarrassment or a quick adjustment (a band-aid and Polysporin quickly applied to a cut, or a tooth brush and paste pulled from a drawer), or a smile and someone going quickly to work. 

"Second - no one is 'sir,' 'mister,' or 'ma'am' unless they're in the military or they're the President or someone else important. Ambassadors, Kings and Queens, Prime Ministers, Foreign Ministers and Presidents. And the secretaries, the governors and the senators are 'sirs' or 'ma'ams' even though I wish they weren't because it goes to their fucking heads, but--" He shrugged and dropped a folder on his desk with a pointed gesture. "--I don't get to make those rules. Third, if you something needs to go to Stan, it goes to me first,  _then_ to him,  _always_." He glared a little at that, pinning him in place. He nodded, eyes a little wide. He had barely noticed the circle they had made through their bullpen and across the lobby to the Communications bullpen, ending at Mr. Kaspbrak's desk. 

He sat, adjusted his chair, which had been lowered to the point where his collarbone was even with the top of the desk and tapped the space-bar on his computer twice. 

"Who the  _fuck_  let Richie in?" 

The bullpen fell silent for a moment. 

The intern stared.

"Eds, baby, I'm a  _blessing_ , and don't you know it. And if you don't, then at least--"

"--My mom does, yeah, thanks, Richie. That's my cup of tea in the morning - jokes about you having sex with my abusive mother." 

"Aw, Eds! How many times have you commented on people's bad breathe and open wounds already this morning? Can't say she didn't have an effect on you, and it wasn't even as good as the effect  _she_ had on my d--" 

Mr. Kaspbrak raised his hand and flipped him off without looking away from his computer. 

"Who's this?" 

Two sets of eyes turned to the intern, two sets of dark brown eyes. He looked between them, feeling small and very, very young. 

Mr. Kaspbrak raised an eyebrow. "I forgot to ask, actually."

The other man gasped, clutching his chest. "Eddie!  _You_  being inconsiderate of new interns? What a rarity! I won't survive how fucking surprising this is, Eds, honestly--"

"Shut  _up_ , Richie." He turned to him, brushing his hair out of his face. "So, what is it, then?"

He stared at him. "Um. Georgie?  

"That shouldn't've been a question, lad," Mr. Tozier said, in a terrible approximation of an English accent. 

The intern flushed. "I'm Georgie. Denbrough. Georgie Denbrough." 

Mr. Kaspbrak's mouth fell open, and he and Mr. Tozier exchanged wide-eyed gazes. 

" _Bill's younger brother_?" They said, leaning forward in the same moment, their arms across their chests and their legs crossed at the ankle. Mr. Kaspbrak's desk, which seemed to have a 'spot,' without papers or folders, designed for Mr. Tozier to lean against. 

"Uh," Georige squeaked, before clearing his throat. "Yeah?" 

"Since when do you intern here?"

"Why didn't Bill tell us?"

"Oh, I - uh - I don't? Some got me confused for an intern and they handed me a file and told me to go and find Kaspbrak and tell him that the numbers changed on the four-oh-eight and that Mr. Uris had to know right away and I was like, wow, I know Stan, maybe I can tell him myself since I have no idea who this Kaspbrak guy is, but then I saw your little plaque thing and decided to tell you. About the bill. Not my brother, the law bill." Georgie felt his cheeks flame pink and quickly stared down at his shoes. He heard Mr. Kaspbrak snicker and Mr. Tozier follow quickly after. 

"Aren't you the cutest fucking thing, eh, Eds?" 

"Condescending," Mr. Kaspbrak said, and the dull sound of someone being punched in the arm punctuated the sentence. 

"Me thinks it's  _actually_  jealously, babe, but don't worry - you're the cutest fucking thing, but I wanted Georgie to get a piece of this action." 

"I  _really_  don't want a piece of your action, Mr. Tozier," Georgie said, looking up. 

Mr. Kaspbrak laughed into his palm. Georgie looked between them, watching the way Mr. Kaspbrak leaned into Mr. Tozier, his arm coming around his waist. Mr. Tozier's arm circled Mr. Kaspbrak's shoulders and pulled him closer, tapping his fingers against his arm in an uneven, unpredictable rhythm. They fell into each other in the way he'd seen Bill and Stan do, pressed up against each other on the couch, or in the kitchen, or - on one memorable and horrible experience - in bed. There was a soft affection in their smiles and their eyes that was hidden in irritation and jokes in their voices. Georgie cocked his head. Mr. Kaspbrak fit beneath Mr. Tozier's arm perfectly, tucked into the other man's side. Despite their difference in height, which must've been nearly a foot, their curls and brown eyes, freckles and wide smiles matched in a way, not like brothers do, but like partners, like old friends who  _knew_  each other. 

"Bill didn't tell me that you two were together, Mr. Kaspbrak," Georgie said, smiling lightly. Bill had told him a lot about the two of them - how irresponsible they often were, but that they were two 'charming, intelligent men who r-really needed to s-s-shut the  _fuck_  up s-sometimes.' He'd told him that they weren't together, but should've been, that the entire office was tired of their flirting, their touching, that even the reporters didn't ask questions about it because one of them had mysteriously ended up with his affair being splashed on the cover of the New York Times the next day. Bill had definitely told him about Eddie and Richie. 

But they didn't need to know that. 

They looked at each other. Eddie's cheeks flushed. Richie brought a nervous hand up to his face, as if to adjust glasses that were no longer there. 

"We're not," Eddie said softly, not looking at Richie, even as he leaned farther into the cradle of his side, tucked up right into his ribs, his waist against the taller man's hip. 

Georgie feigned surprise. "Oh! I'm sorry, Mr. Kaspbrak. It's just the two of you are--" He gestured at them vaguely, at the long line of their bodies against each other. 

Eddie forced a laugh, bringing a hand up through curly blonde and brown hair. "Nah. 'Chee is fucking my mom, even after all these years - he's a taken man, right, Rich?" Georgie watched the apprehension wash over Eddie's freckles and eyebrows as he turned his face up, catching Richie's eyes, which were already fixed on him. 

"He's - what, the fourth stranger to ask that this week, Eds?" Richie's voice was soft, with the edge of a joke, but without the substance. His eyes never left Eddie's face, falling to a pink mouth (Bill had once told Georgie, while quite drunk, that Eddie liked strawberry lipstick more than he liked coffee which was, apparently, something Big for Edward Kaspbrak). The hand that wasn't wrapped around Eddie's waist came up to his face and brushed over his cheekbones. Blush followed. 

"Something like that, yeah," Eddie breathed. He stared at Richie, flicked his eyes over dark freckles and dark eyes and dark hair, over sharp cheekbones and a crooked nose that he'd broken just a few weeks ago like he was seeing him for the first time. 

Georgie smiled a little. 

He left the manila folder on Eddie's desk and left for Stan's office, entering without knocking. On Stan's desk was Bill, sitting next to Stan, who was holding his hand and laughing, crumbs on his mouth. 

"You might get some awkward videos popping up tomorrow, and you'll need someone to do a briefing about relationships in the White House," Georgie said, closing the door behind him. 

Stan and Bill raised wordless eyebrows at him. 

Georgie shrugged and schooled his face into the image of innocence that Bev had taught him. "Pretty sure I just saw Richie and Eddie making out in the bullpen." 

"What?" Stan said, mouth falling open. " _Fuck_ , if they scar any new interns--"

"Maybe they s-s-should get a couple days off, huh, S-s-stan?"

Stan ignored Bill, staring at Georgie. He narrowed his eyes and brought up an accusing finger. "What did you do?"

"Nothing!" Georgie said, wide-eyed. 

"Uh huh," Stan said. "I was a day and a half short of winning our bet and now you're very conviniently in the office and Richie and Eddie are making out in the bullpen." 

Georgie shrugged. "I must have a special something." 

 

Against a desk in the bullpen, one of the busiest bullpens in the White House, Richie Tozier had his arm wrapped around a pink-cheeked, swollen-mouthed Eddie Kaspbrak, both of them looking not even half as bashful as they should've as Bev reprimanded them about PDA. 

Moments later, Stan marched out of his office, and dismissed Eddie and Richie, offering four days paid vacation if they swore to never make-out in the office again. 

"Can we fuck if we don't make-out--?"

"Beep  _fucking_ beep, Richie," Beverly said, rolling her eyes. " _Please_  go home."

"You can fuck there," Georgie offered. He winked at Eddie as Stan handed him eight well-rolled twenties. 

Stan huffed. 

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> lemme know what you thought? its short and more about georgie than the two boys, but whatever i dig it - i was thinking of maybe doing more with the politics and involving everybody else, too? what do you guys think?
> 
> also, come bother me on tumblr pretty please it's gay-for-roxane


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